


Strictly Business

by TheJokersEnigma



Category: DCU
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-12-13 19:57:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11767251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJokersEnigma/pseuds/TheJokersEnigma
Summary: Hi guys, so this was a request I was given at the beginning of the week:'Hi there! I have a request if you don’t mind ;) How about Joker got obsessed with a married woman? I’m just dying to see what he’s going to do. I don’t want to limit your imagination, but still a little application… I just see that marriage was more like marriage of convenience in a good way. Maybe this woman and her husband are like business partners too.'There were a few particular they wanted, but that would make this a long post (longer than usual) so I’ll leave it at that!After beginning to write this I figured it would be better as a 2-3 part piece, and as the Anon didn’t specify if this was suppose to be a oneshot or not I’ve decided to spilt it up (otherwise it would be huge because I’m really bad at writing small pieces of work! hahaAnyway, hope you enjoy it!





	1. Chapter 1

I shuffled together the mass of papers that were splayed out over the expanse of my desk, shoving them into a neater pile and tapping them on the flat surface until they were inline, then placed them to the side of me.  
I straightened up, hyperextending my back and feeling the ache ring through my muscles – maybe I ought to take up Yoga again – hunching over a desk wasn’t helping my posture or my back.  
I pushed myself to my feet, the sun already beginning to fade behind the skyscrapers that filled the view from my large office window. It was getting late and I needed to get going.  
I picked up my now-uniform pile of papers and nestled them into the crook of my arm, moving around my desk and heading for the door, grabbing my handbag and coat from the hook on the back of the door.  
I locked the office up behind me, dropping the keys into the expanse of my back, before straightening myself out and walking the brief distance across the open floor of offices to the only other room as large as mine on this floor - and the entire building – my husband’s.  
I knocked smartly on his door, pausing only a moment before I heard the faint acceptance into the room and I pushed the door open.  
Though the room was as large as mine, it was decorated completely differently. Whilst mine took on a more modern look and was decorated to look sleek with its metals and sharp edges, Mathew’s took a more traditional, old-fashion design of dark wooden furniture and dim lighting – as close to a hunting lodge as he could get.  
My eyes met my husband’s first when I walked into the room, he sat behind the large dark oak desk, his attention momentarily diverted from the folder in front of him. I gave him a small smile of greeting before turning my attention to his visitors who sat on matching dark leather armchairs on the opposite side. I nodded to them in greeting and they returned warm welcomes, knowing full well who I was.  
“My apologies, gentlemen.” I said quickly, striding past them to my husband, who stood up to greet me. “Just some last-minute paperwork before I get ready for the gala tonight.” I explained handing the papers over to Mathews waiting hand.  
“Off already?” He asked, surprised.  
Ah Mathew – always the one to burn the midnight oil.  
“It’s already getting dark.” I pointed, knowing full well he probably hadn’t looked at the time for at least 3 hours – too busy wrapped up in meetings or papers to ever look around his environment. He could work in the sewer and not care as long as the work kept coming in – it made me wonder why he’d bothered with such a nice office space. “Besides, I have to make sure everything is running smoothly,” I said, with a smile at the men sat across from me then smile in agreement, “and then I have to get ready myself – not all of us can just throw on a suit and turn up.” I added with a wink in the direction of the other men who chortled at my teasing.  
“Fine, fine.” Mathew brushed me off with a slight hand gesture, too busy for my gentle ribbing right now and already flicking through the papers I had given him, his mind quickly becoming lost in them. “I’ll see you this evening then?” He asked, but I could tell he was already lost in the documents, so I gave him a small nod and headed for the door. “St. George’s?” Mathew suddenly called out to me and I turned to see him looking at me. I nodded again – his memory for things other than work rather poor. “Tonight then.” He said, half to himself, immediately re-immersing into his reading. over the corner of the dark wood desk to.   
I gave a small smile to the other men and left the room.  
I spent the rest of my evening darting around the venue for the gala later that night, checking the alcohol had arrived, the servers present, the decorations in place and any other little problem that was handed to me. It was a bit later than I hoped that I finally headed back to my flat. I spent the last few hours getting myself dolled up and ready to host, whilst also answering the phone that continued to ring for my attention – I never stopped working.  
Work ruled my life now. It hadn’t always. I used to be young and foolish, carefree like many others in their 20’s. But then reality had hit me at 21 when I lost both my parents and soon found myself without any money. That had been a cold hard slap in the face at a time where I was used to having spare cash to throw around as I pleased. Suddenly I was forced to work to survive and I could no longer afford to be frivolous or waste my time on anything but improving my prospects.  
But now I was better off than I had ever been – I made more money than anyone in my family had ever done, thanks to now owning one of the largest business in Gotham, rivalled only really now by Wayne Enterprises.  
Yet I still worked constantly.  
There had been a time when I was taunted by my colleagues for never 'letting my hair down', but I had simply regarded them as childish, they didn’t know me – no one really did, I had no friends left from the tie before my parent’s death – and no one could understand what my work meant to me.  
I think I found enjoyment in it. In my work.  
Before it had been a way to get money, to survive and then to be comfortable, and then secure.  
Then it had become a coping mechanism to deal with the tragedy in my life, I had kept myself buried in the work load from the start to keep my mind busy on anything but what I had lost.  
Now it thrilled me – the tense waiting for a deal to come through, the rush when you pulled off the biggest merger, the power of manipulation of those who hadn’t been in the game long enough to realise they could be so easily swayed by a few choice words.  
It kept me going.  
If I didn’t have my work - if I stopped for even a moment – I would surely collapse under the weight of everything I had been putting off for so long.

After applying the last touch to my makeup I grabbed my clutch and shrugged a thin shawl over my shoulders, before I headed out into the night. I hailed a cab and sat silently in the back, tapping away at my phone and relishing in the peace behind I had to endure a night of socialising.  
I wasn’t a huge people person. I dealt with them because I had to, not because I wanted to - If I could have it my way it would be just my job and me, no one else. Not even Mathew.  
Maybe that was why I didn’t mind manipulating and conning people the way I did, and maybe that was why I didn’t care that I never went out, my social life only comprising events like tonight - which was really just another night of working for me. After all, it was events like tonight where all the huge deals were make - there was at least one merger that hung in the balance this evening.  
So that’s how I tricked myself into putting up with these things – it was just a large, slightly oddly laid out, meeting room, full of people to be seduced and persuaded into giving me their money and their businesses.  
My problem was, few other people saw it like this.  
And that’s how I ended up where I currently was.  
I had entered the large venue room relatively late for the hostess and worked my way around a few of the groups of businessmen and socialites, chatting away where necessary, laying the foundation for further, more serious talks later. Eventually I had found my husband on the other side of the room, already engaged in a deep conversation with a couple of Bruce Wayne’s employees.  
I had strode up to them, greeting the group of men warmly. Mathew had given me a small peck on the cheek – the obligatory mark of a man greeting the woman he was lawfully wedded to – no romance and little tenderness in the gesture, simply something to keep up the show of our relationship.  
I had stood with them for a while, happily chatting about the ever elusive Mr. Wayne and how their company fared with the recent drop in certain stocks and rises in other areas, both of the sides staying just as closed up and carefully as the other.  
If I could stay speaking to the men all night like this, these evenings were generally fine – all of us enjoying the discussions of numbers and profits. However, all too often I was singled out by my gender and driven over to the other women in the room – the businessman’s wives.  
These ladies had no idea what a profit margin was or the difference between fixed and variable costs and instead insisted on talking about their family lives and the gossip amongst the rest of their little group.  
My problem was, I didn’t care that Junior had just started walking, or Mary had just made it to high school, I didn’t care that Mark had just proposed to Sue or that James seemed bored of Kim. I had no interest in children – other peoples or my own – and I didn’t care about romantic partners – despite marrying Mathew.  
But that had never been romantic – it had never been for ‘love’.  
When I was younger my parents had always pushed that they wanted me married, and I had fallen for everything a young naïve child does about love at first sight and the hopes of being swept off my feet by a handsome stranger across the room.  
Of course, that had gone with the rest of my foolishness after my parents had passed, but the question of marriage never seemed to leave the conversation - in fact, as I got older, the question of my single-hood became more and more repetitive.  
That was about the time I had met Mathew. He had been in charge of a company of similar size to my own and we had been on the war path for quite some time - always trying to outdo one another. I had seen nothing there but two businesses fighting it out to be on the top.  
Mathew had not.  
After a particularly heated meeting between our two sides he had pulled me aside and waved a white flag, asking me to drinks that evening. I had seen it as a chance to ply him with alcohol and get some information from him and had accepted.  
Information was not what I got however. I got a marriage proposal.  
I thought it had been ridiculous at the time – a simple whim from the man after too many whiskeys. But - ever being a business woman - I had not turned him down straight away. I let the offer linger.  
The next few days I had considered my options, planned and reworked every outcome possible from the different sides of this ‘deal’ as I called it. I couldn’t see a reason not to say yes – if he agreed to my conditions.  
And so, we had struck a deal. Our companies would merge, both of us would be joint, equal partners with it, and I would marry him - thereby removing the pressure of society off my back.  
I never truly understood what he got from it – had he wanted the companies merged? Surely there was another way around other than marrying me? Had he ‘loved’ me? I was never sure and I still wasn’t sure of anything but that he definitely didn’t ‘love’ me anymore.  
“So, any sign of children on the horizon for you, Leah?” The voice forced me to focus back in on the conversation around me as the 3 elegantly dressed women in front of me chattered away. This was the new repetitive question to replace that of marriage.  
For the millionth time I shook my head, “We’re both so busy people.” I explained, “We don’t think it would be fair.”  
“Me and Harvey thought that initially, but our nanny is perfect!” Explained the tall, stick thin woman to my right. I nodded and smiled as the conversation now switched to everyone’s current or previous nanny and nursery services.  
I downed my glass and excused myself for a new drink, making my way over to one of the many small tables laid out with refreshments, in case the servers were busy elsewhere. I grabbed a fresh glass of champagne and found myself stood by the entrance to the vast room, hidden away from the pressing crowd behind a pillar.  
I sipped at my drink, watching the tendrils of bubbles swirl and waltz in my champagne, as I recuperated from the suffocating mass of bodies.   
A movement to my right caught my eye and I turned my head to see a man walking through the large double door entrance way to the room. He wore a tuxedo that fitted his frame perfectly, with no tie or bowtie and the top few buttons of his shirt undone to leave the muscles around his neck clearly visible. He carried a cane with him, occasionally using it, but mainly swinging it at his side in his white gloved hands.  
This is in itself was unusual, but was not what initially caught my eyes. No, my eyes had been dragged by his long vibrant green hair that was slicked neatly back in place and the bright red lips that were only emphasised by his very pale, almost alabaster skin.   
I couldn’t seem to look away from him, I was too intrigued by his appearance and the power he seemed to just exude as he stood there surveying the room. There was something very odd about him and I was certain he couldn’t have been on the guest list – so how did he get in?  
He looked almost bored as he glared out into the room. He held himself different from anyone else, with a vast amount of self-confidence that suggested he was far more important than any of the other millionaires in the room and he seemed to be almost assessing the room, like a lion assessing a herd of prey. The look in his eyes made me shiver.  
The movement seemed to catch his eye and his gaze darted straight to mine. I was used to people trying to stare me down to intimidate me - and I was good at holding my own -but the intensity of the look he gave me seemed to burn my eyes and the itch to drop my gaze was agonizing.  
He started to step toward me, and even his walk was different, it was precise and graceful and it felt like he was stalking me. It was only as he got closer that his appearance became stranger, he didn’t have any eyebrows, and there was a ‘Damaged’ written in cursive on his forehead and a small J under his left eye.  
“Well hello there...” He growled, eyeing me up and down, swinging his cane as he approached. “Aren’t you… Beautiful…” He snarled, his voice sounding sinful and - though I scowled at his vulgarity - I wasn’t nearly as disgusted as I should have been, instead I could feel my temperature rise by a few degrees. He held my gaze a bit longer, the icy blue seeming to trap me.   
“Why don’t you be a doll, doll, and go get the man in charge.” He purred at me, breaking the eye contact off and surveying the crowded room.  
“You’re looking at her, doll.” I mimicked, not amused by his patronising comment.  
He raised his invisible eyebrows at me, “Hmm,” The pale man seemed to consider me with interest, “Fiery little cracker aren't ya, doll?” He asked, stepping closer towards me with a sneer on his face. I read the power play in his movements, many a man having tried this on me before - even Matt had attempt it when we first met. I stood my ground, reminding myself repeatedly that I could have this man thrown out of here easily – though I would prefer not to make a scene.   
“No, sir.” I replied firmly, not amused by his childish mocking, “I am just a woman hosting an important business gala with a very strict guest list. And I am certain that no child entertainers were required.” I told him sternly, eyeing him up and down with a look of distaste - though I had to admit some of it was forced - the sight in front of me not wholly unappealing.  
The man’s upper lip curled at my comment, “Oh I can show you entertainment doll,” He purred threateningly, stepping even closer.  
“Another step, and security will be in this room in less than 2 seconds, I guarantee it.” I warned him fiercely, standing tall and confident in my heels, determined now not give in under his intense blue stare.  
He didn’t come any closer, but he also didn’t retreat, he just stood, a wide grin now stretching across his face and showing metal caps on the visible teeth, the shiny surface glinting in the overhead lights.  
“So, tell me doll…” He growled lowly, placing his cane in front of him and leaning over on it so he came closer to me without taking a step, I scowled at him. “Who are you?”  
“Who are you, and why are you here?” I asked instead, not willing to play his little game.  
He grinned at me, “You don’t watch a lot of news do ya, doll?” He asked, a knowing gleam in his eyes that I didn’t like. I scowled at him moodily, “Jeez doll, are you always this grumpy? He asked with a hint of mocking in his tone. “Won’t give without a take, hmm?” he asked with a tilt of his head, “Alright doll, first you, then me.”  
I stared at him coldly, still refusing to be ordered around by this unusual man.  
“Fine!” He moaned dramatically, exaggerating his eyes roll at my stubbornness. “I'll start.” He said, “I'm here to rob the place.”  
At first, I thought this was just more of his seemingly twisted humour, but he sounded so serious…  
“I'm calling security.” I stated, no longer wanting to put up with this strange man, and I made to move past him, heading towards the service phone I knew was out in the hallway.  
“Ah ah ah, doll.” He tutted at me, swinging his arm out to catch me as I strode past him. He was stronger than his thin, chiselled face led me to believe and I could feel the muscles in his arm flex under his jacket as he wrestled me backwards. One step back from me was all he needed and he swiftly pulled his arm back, now pushing a sharp point into my stomach. I gasped, tensing my stomach, trying to withdraw it from the point, but too scared what he might do if I moved. “Don't be such a tattle tale,” He sang playfully in my ear and then placed more pressure on the knife, the point digging through my dress and into my skin. I was forced to step backwards, and he only eased up when I was back to my original position.  
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I demanded, though keeping my voice low to avoid making a huge scene over something I hoped I could handle.  
He held up a finger to me, gesturing for me to wait, then, keeping the knife against my stomach, he used his other hand to dig into his jacket pocket to pull out a playing card which he handed over to me face down.  
I took it wordlessly, wondering if he suddenly wanted to perform a magic trick. I frowned at him confused and turned the card over to reveal a joker.  
I shook my head in confusion, “I don’t –“ I began, when I suddenly remembered. It was true, I didn’t watch a lot of local news, especially if nothing to do with stock markets – I didn’t have the time, I usually had someone else just produce a summary for me of all the daily costs and profits that would come in due to local occurrences – but I had heard the name Joker. An escape of Arkham Asylum and a crime lord on the streets of Gotham.   
Was it time to get someone’s attention now? Should I scream?  
Suddenly there was a finger inches away from my face, “Not a word doll.” He purred, pressing the knife harder into my stomach and I gasped.  
“You're going to rob this place on your own?” I scoffed through the pain, trying to keep my cool, even if I was at knife point.   
“Never underestimate a man without a plan!” He grinned sadistically at me and I could see the true sick and twisted nature in his eyes.  
“Now doll…” He snarled dangerously, “Shall we continue?” He asked, his voice suddenly sickly sweet and painfully pleasant, “What is your name and what is it you do?”  
I swallowed, trying not to move my stomach against the weapon too much. I was truly afraid for my life now, the truth of my situation only too clear now. “My name is Leah. I'm a partner of INK.” I quoted out as the knife bit into my skin.  
“Wow, doll. A real successful business woman.” He seemed impressed, “Who are the other partners?” He asked, pushing even harder on the knife.  
“Just my husband.” I gasped, scrunching my eyes closed at the pain, the pressure forcing me to bend over slightly.   
He retracted the knife slightly, giving me a small amount of relief, “Your husband, hmm?” He asked, as though generally intrigued, “And where is he?”  
I didn’t know why the psychotic clown wanted to know and I definitely didn’t want to answer – I wouldn’t sell out my husband to this criminal clown, but I also knew I was about to be skewered with a knife if I didn’t tell him. “Whatever you want with him you can take up with me!” I told him fiercely.  
“Brave, doll, I see.” He muttered, nodding, “But that wasn’t an answer to the question, was it?” He snarled, “So, I’ll ask again,” He said, a fierceness in his voice this time that made me cower until his gaze, “Where. Is. He?”  
I swallowed again, trying to embrace the pain like I knew some people were able to. I continued to refuse to answer, staring at him in a stubborn silence, fighting against the tears of pain that were threatening in the corners of my eyes.  
“Come on now, doll.” He urged, his teeth clenched together like he was restraining himself from doing something, “It’s only a simple question of interest,” He sneered, “Promise I won't harm him.” He pleaded mockingly, but at the same time I felt the knife again, and I scrunched my face at the pain.  
What was I going to do? He had promised not to hurt him after all. Sure, I doubted an Arkham patient and crime lord was going to be a man of his word, but it was better than nothing right? Or was that just the pain and alcohol talking?   
I didn’t want to be the reason Mathew got hurt, but here I was being basically tortured into giving information.  
Whilst I debated in my head, eyes on the floor, and partially doubled over in pain, the Joker leant over me, bending down to my ear, “If he was in your position, would he be as gallant for you?” His warm breath brushed past my ear and I wasn’t sure if I trembled or shivered, the movement causing the knife to cut a bit deeper.  
Would he, though? I wondered. I wanted to say I couldn’t be sure, but deep down I felt like I knew the answer.  
I pulled myself upright slightly, ignoring the protest of my skin as the blade point scraped down my skin. At the movement, the Joker released some of the pressure on the knife, giving me a brief relief from the pain, though the now-tender skin still stung with the memory.  
I didn’t say anything, feeling the knife drop away completely as I turned my back on the Joker. I scanned the crowded room until my gaze fell on a group of three men in suits stood chatting, each holding a small glass of an amber liquid. My eyes focused on the tallest man, neatly shaven, his brown hair combed neatly back and in a smart black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath.  
“Ahh...” the Joker breathed behind me, confirming that he had seen the man. “Now tell me doll, has he even spared a moment for you this evening, hmm?” He asked quietly in my ear, another shiver passing down my spine at his breath on my neck and how close he was behind me.  
My eyes were glued to my husband’s figure, begging him to turn around and look at me, see the fear and panic in my eyes, if only for a moment.   
But he didn't feel my gaze on the side of his face, or if he did, he chose to ignore it, continuing his conversation animatedly, without a care to the trauma his wife was experiencing across the room.  
“Shame.” Purred the Joker behind me and I felt his hand drift to my hip, the knife point now digging into my back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here is part 2, I apologise if the Joker is a bit out of character - I think I lost him a bit during this, but I'll try to get him back for the next part!  
> Hope you enjoy it anyway! :D
> 
> P.S If anyone has a request they'd like to throw at me - be it Joker or any other fandom - I'll happily give it a go! :D

The Joker’s breath on my neck was sending shivers down me, his hand at my hip heated the skin beneath and the knife point dug into my back. I tried to shift away from his contact - the sensations from his touch overwhelming me in a way that alarmed me, almost pushing the knife to the back of my mind. I tried to shift my body away from him - but his grip just tightened on me, holding me in place. I bit my bottom lip, to hold back any noise as the knife dug deeper into my lower back, my eyes still on the crowd, focused on my husband on the other side of the room, still attempting to get him to look at me.  
“He doesn’t notice, doll.” Purred the Joker, “He doesn’t care…” He drawled sardonically, like a devil on my shoulder, his warm breath heating my neck and the warming sensation running down my entire body. Suddenly I no longer felt the knife on my back, instead his now-free left hand reached for my other hip. “He doesn’t appreciate you like a real man should…” He growled huskily, his hands running up my sides and burning their own path up my body.  
I swallowed thickly, closing my eyes and losing sight of Mathew, embarrassed by how turned on I was by this man that just a moment ago had wielded a knife at me. I had always prided myself on being clear and calculating at all times - straight minded, never gullible. But this man – this criminal – he was able to just touch me, say a few crude words and I was at a loss as to who I even was or what I should be doing.  
I should be frightened, terrified for my life. And I was. But that was very quickly fading to be replaced with something I had never experienced before and – though it alarmed me – I couldn’t deny the fact that I liked it. Wanted it. In this very moment, nothing else crossed my mind but the sensations running through my body and the little niggling fact that this was really wrong. Though, right now, I couldn’t remember why. The ability to protest and attempt to move from his touch – even if he let me – was severely lacking.  
His left hand had now moved to my bare shoulder and he slid his palm down my arm - the touch leaving goosebumps in its path - until his pale fingers enveloped mine.  
“How about I be your stand in man for the night, doll?” He asked in my ear, and I could almost feel the roguish smirk on his face behind me.   
“What?” I asked surprised, causing me to open my eyes, his words only having just gained meaning in my clouded mind. A moment ago, he had been declaring to me he was about to rob the place, now he was asking – what was he asking?  
“A little service I’ll supply, kitten, if you keep your pretty lips shut on the robbery.” He murmured seductively at my neck.  
I kept my gaze ahead, refusing to look at him in case my mind was only further clouded, “W-why would I want that?” I asked in surprise – though every part of me screamed that I wanted that.   
With a soft tug at my hand, he signalled for me to turn and I let him pull me round until I faced him. I didn’t immediately look at his face, keeping my gaze low at his exposed chest – not that the view was helping me focus any better. He didn’t say anything until I looked up, meeting his clear blue eyes more and forcing myself to swallow again as my throat went dry.  
Content that I was looking at him again, he continued, “You can be my queen for the night,” He purred down at me,” His eyes bright and excited, “And I’ll be a bit of candy for your arm,” explained, with a devilishly grin and a wink, “I’ll make your little ex-man jealous.” He added, and I thought I saw his eyes darken slightly at the mention of Mathew.  
I scowled at him, “Mathew’s my husband, not my ex!” I told him, confused why he would say that.  
“Oh?” He said, raising his invisible eyebrows in question, “I don’t see a ring on your finger.” he said innocently, pulling up the hand he still held until it was between us. He released enough of my hand to show that my fingers were bare. I frowned in confusion - I was sure I had been wearing it. I didn’t wear it a lot, but at any event like this it was always reliably found on my left ring finger, I even remembered putting it on earlier because it took me a while to find it.   
The Joker watched my confusion, his face innocently impassive, but I saw the humour shining in his eyes and I scowled at him suspiciously. He released my hand completely now and I let it drop as I watched him open his empty left hand, palm facing me. He then flicked his hand so quickly I barely saw the movement and - by some sleight of hand - he now had my wedding band between his thumb and forefinger, a wide grin on his face.  
“Now you’re single, doll.” He said with a smirk, “How about a dance?”  
I wanted to say no. Didn’t I?  
No words left my mouth as I fought an inner battle. Everything in me was screaming not – he was criminal – a crime lord in fact – who had threated to, and still could easily, carve me up with the knife in his pocket if I made a false move. But something about him seemed to appeal and fascinate me, sparking a new voice in my head to want to agree to his offer – a voice which was loudly having a tantrum against any reason given by the sane parts of my mind.  
Despite the war in my head, when the Joker held out his hand for mine I had the urge to be young and carefree again and I roughly shoved aside my common sense and took the hand that was offered - deciding to do something risky and poorly thought out one more time in my life.   
The Joker gripped my hand firmly - as though sealing my fate and preventing me from backing out of my decision - and he pulled me along with him into the small group of couples who were spinning aimlessly on the dance floor.  
The Joker stopped in an empty space and pulled me toward him, his left hand taking my right and lifting his up, his other right hand finding my back as I gingerly placed my hand on his shoulder. He noticed my hesitation, “I won’t bite, doll.” He promised, before bending down to my ear, “Unless you beg for it.” He breathed, and I could feel my temperature rise by a few degrees as my cheeks flared. I couldn’t meet his eyes, instead, keeping my gaze to my feet as I tried to recall the steps for this dance, attempting to ignore the chuckle from the man in front of me as he laughed at my embarrassment.   
“Does your hubby dance with you, doll?” He asked and I brought my gaze back to his to see a grin on his face that suggested he already knew the answer.  
I scowled at him and his smugness, “If I’m going to do this with you,” I told him, “You’re going to have to not bring him up.” I warned.  
He raised his eyebrows dropping his face in an aggregated frown, mocking my seriousness, but also seeming to understand he had hit a tender spot because he agreed grudgingly, “Alright doll, new topic.”  
He gazed around the hall before his wide smile sprang back into place, causing – I noticed – the dark shadows under his eyes to lighten slightly, “So tell me doll,” he began, still facing into the crowd, “who’s worth the effort of robbing in this puffed up parade.” He asked, glancing sideways at me with interest, the live band to my right just finishing the song.  
I looked at him, outraged – so he was still set on robbing the place - “I’m not telling you that!” I cried indignantly as the next song started up behind my back and the Joker kept us swaying.  
“Come on now, doll, play the game!” He whined, his eyes teasing, “Make me guess and I’ll get it right,” he warned, and the gleam in his eyes told me he was telling the truth, “Now’s your chance to change that – take control of the pieces and rig the game for yourself.” He said, spinning us around in time to the music.  
My hair danced on my shoulder, a few strands flying out to the side as we twirled, and I realised he was right. I liked to think I had a slightly unique take on this world – one few others in this room had because I hadn’t been born into money. I hadn’t been granted my high-ranking job because of my money and power, I had crawled from nothing to everything. I knew how to play the game and I saw things the rest of them didn’t. Like how the man in front of me didn’t quite fit into this sort of company, but they just didn’t see him or his brightly coloured hair – he wasn’t an important CEO or tradesman so they were blind to him – he might as well no existent. They had eyes for the deals. I had eyes for everything and anything I could use to my advantage.  
I had the rare opportunity here to directly affect a few choice individuals whose losses would only give me more gain. I stared over his shoulder at nothing as I thought things through. I then my gaze back to this where he had been watching my face intently, I gave him a hard stare and then slowly and deliberately turned my gaze to certain individuals, letting my eyes linger on them for a few moments on each of them.  
The Joker watched my every movement, noting the people I highlighted, “Much appreciated, doll.” Chuckled the Joker with a grin, clearly pleased by my willingness to play along.   
I comforted myself with the fact I hadn’t actually ‘pointed’ them out - I had just happened to look at them a bit longer - no words had left my lips.  
They would probably only lose a few hundred grand after all - nothing for these people – but maybe just enough to knock them off their high pedestals and allow me to seize a few rare deals that might suddenly become available.  
We continued to dance for the rest of the song until the Joker slowly stepped us to the side of the open floor, “Sorry, doll - duty calls.” He grinned devilishly before disappearing amongst the crowd, blending in with the many suits even with his vibrant hair.   
I remained where he left me for a few moments before I gathered myself together and wandered to one of the refreshment tables, seeking a strong drink to try to knock some sense back into me.  
The moment had been nice whilst it lasted, I thought, as I sipped my glass of whiskey, but now I needed to think straight again. The alcohol heated my throat and burnt a hot path down my body as I swallowed. All to similar what he had made me feel with his touch alone, I thought, immediately regretting my choice of drink and downing the rest quickly, making a face at the punch of sharp alcohol on my taste buds. I reached for a glass of champagne instead – maybe I needed to drink myself through this whole thing, I thought to myself as I pulled out my phone and started checking my emails.   
Just then Mathew approached my side, I gave him a weak smile of greeting, but he didn’t return it, instead he immediately turned so he was directly in front of me, his back to the rest of the crowded room, “Who was that you were dancing with?” He asked, trying to act nonchalant but I could see through him.  
Now was my chance to say. Now I could stop the thefts, save everyone a bit of money – be a hero, maybe even get the police here in time to catch him red handed. I didn’t bother to look up from my phone at him. “No one.” I answered simply.  
I heard Mathew huff beside me, immediately accepting my answer as truth, “Next time try to catch someone who could actually be of use to us.” He scolded me. I didn’t show a sign of listening – deciding to ignore him this time like he had ignored me earlier when I had needed his help.  
He remained in front of me for a few moments as I typed away at my device and I knew what he wanted – he wanted me to ask how his talks and bargaining had gone – probably because he had managed to make a deal he wanted to brag about. But I wasn’t in the mood to boost his ego anymore, to be honest I wanted him gone.  
It didn’t take long for him to leave – though I doubted it was due to my subtle hinting – returning to his schmoozing of the more important people in the room.  
I hadn’t let my expression change when he had stood next to me, but now I allowed myself to feel the harsh sting. Was that all I was now? I thought to myself - just a body to throw at possible clients or CEOs to seduce them into deals? I was quite happy using myself for that – it was my choice – but when someone else was using me that way it kind of hurt. I had more to offer than that. What about all the times I had come in with right word just at Mathew was about to blow a deal, or riled someone up too much? And what about all the success I had managed before he had arrived on the scene a year ago? Was that worth nothing anymore?  
I kept my eyes on my phone, trying to distract myself with the screen, but I was shocked when I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I hadn’t cried in years – I couldn’t afford to – there were no feelings in this game, it made you weak – especially if you were a woman, men were looking for any reason they could find to feel superior over females in this world.  
I blamed the Joker for making me this pathetic – for making me feel again. Or maybe it was my fault – maybe, against my better judgement – I had thought my marriage was based off more than a list of conditions and a signed contract – no longer just a simple mutual benefit - but of something else?  
But clearly not.  
Huh, I smirk glumly to myself, looked like I had gained feelings for Mathew as he had lost them toward me.  
I picked up one of the napkins next to me, wiping at an invisible lipstick smudge in the glass window behind me, quickly bring it up to brush at my eyes so no one saw my weaknesses on display.  
A hand suddenly grabbed my upper arm and I jumped at the touch, immediately spinning around to come face to face with a familiar pale, tattooed face again.   
“Not bad tonight, doll.” He praised with his familiar grin, and - if he saw my tears - he didn’t comment on them, “but I know for a fact that you cheated me out of some serious buck.” He continued, eyeing me seriously, though he didn’t seem too disappointed about it, and his eyes held no danger. “So, doll - tell me – who is the richest in the room?” He asked with a sly grin, intrigued.  
I was glad he hadn’t seen my tears, or was choosing to ignore them, I didn’t want to explain myself – it would be embarrassing, complicated and a bit of me worried I would go down in his opinion. I sniffed once, blinking away any remaining waterworks and emotions before facing his question with my usual composure.  
I knew I shouldn’t answer truthfully – should lie – but I also knew that when I was around him my morals seemed to go out of the window – he seemed to spark odd behaviour in me, a crazy and daringness that I never usually felt. And right now, when I was slowly feeling myself crumble under my new realisations and the alcohol in my system – I really needed something like that. I was feeling reckless.  
“You’re looking at her.” I said simply with a smart smirk.  
A light lit up in his eyes that I couldn’t understand and he grinned widely at me. “In that case, doll, you owe me another dance.”  
I knew the last thing I should do was spend more time with the criminal, but I also didn’t want to stand on the side-lines with my thoughts right now. The truth was, I wanted to be lost in the moment with him again like I had been earlier, where I hadn’t had a thought for anything but the unusual and alluring man in front of me.  
I didn’t get a chance to reject his offer however - even if I wanted to – as the Joker took advantage of my hesitation and grabbed me, pulling me back onto the dance floor. I followed after him, and he pulled me back up against him, resuming our previous position, but this time he seemed to hold me closer and tighter than before – but maybe that was just me.  
We danced in silence for a few rotations around the floor, this time I initiated the conversation, “so have you done it?” I asked, looking up at him, intrigued.  
Humour shone in his eyes, “Ooh, kitten, are you taking an interest in my work?” He asked with a mischievous grin, “Yes, doll, it’s all set up.”  
“So now you make your grand escape?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.  
He laughed, the sound slightly haunting and causing me to shiver, “That’s the plan, doll.”  
“How are you going to do it?” I asked as though I was wondering nothing but how he was going to afford a new car, or catch a taxi. I was truly feeling careless and free with him, my insecurities and worries gone with his presence and one too many glasses of champagne.  
“There are plenty of options, doll.” The Joker grinned as we continued to sway to the music, I could just walk out the same way I came in.” He purred, his breath brushing the top of my head.  
“Boring.” I said simply, my eyes staring, unseeing over his shoulder and my voice catching in my throat as the warm air fanning through my hair.  
“I could kill you and a few others,” he proposed, “and disappear in the ensuing chaos.” The growl in his voice rumbled through his chest and resonated through my own body that was closely pressed to his.  
“Boring.” I said, again, not deaf to the darkness in his growl, but still unfazed by the comment on my possible murder. His words meant nothing to me whilst I was here in his arms, I felt safe despite his words and, when I pulled back enough to see his face clearly, I could see no danger in his eyes.  
His eyes seemed to grow hungry then as he studied my face and reaction, “I could take you as a hostage,” He growled, “Bet your pretty husband over there would pay a hefty sum for you.” He snarled, a strange anger seeming to overcome him.  
At the mention of Mathew, I could feel my face drop, suddenly reminded of my earlier pain, “Good luck with that.” I scoffed, still hurt, “I doubt I’m important enough for that. You’d be better off with someone like Bruce Wayne,” I suggested bitterly, “he’s all my husband cares about at the moment.”  
“Ah, but is he here in my arms, doll?” Joker teased with a grin, though this eyes still seemed to have a shadow over them.  
I ignored his joking, turning my head so I now gazed out the large glass window to my left, the view extending over the sprawling city lit up below us. “Even if he did pay, that would be it.” I mused glumly, “He wouldn’t bat an eyelid at the amount you demanded – he’s rolling in it.”  
I paused as I stared out at the city, thinking things through in my mind, I was surprised when the Joker didn’t say anything, happy for me to sit in my thoughts as we twirled across the floor. “And that’s not what you want,” I said after a moment, turning back to face him and eyeing him in thought. He sneered at me, entertained by how serious I suddenly was, clearly working something out in my mind. “You want something that’ll shake them, not just hit their wallets,” I predicted his excitement infectious, “you want to throw them into chaos so they all start to claw each other apart.”  
I didn’t notice the flicker of surprise in his eyes, too busy now staring at the floor at my right, my mind calculating. “No,” I said, more to myself than to him, “In a room full of money it’s image, not cash, that is the most powerful.” I muttered. I then abruptly turned back to him, “For the people in this room I recommend bribery.” I told him formally, “Far more lucrative.” I added. “And what you have before you is a women who has been forced into many gossip sessions, group therapy and scandalous Chinese whispers for many years - I know dirty secrets on at least half of his room which would cause at least a few rifts.  
“Suggest you can reveal those,” I said, “and these people will grovel at your feet.”  
He eyed me seriously, his eyes dark and menacing and I wondered if I had over stepped an odd boundary he had. His eyes were hard and calculating as he thought through what I had suggested.  
Suddenly – as though someone had flicked a switch – he changed, his eyes now excited and hungry again, his grin spreading back across his face. “Fancy a duet, doll?”  
I gave him a sweet, misleading smile, “Sorry, no, doll.” I said with an exaggerated pout, relishing in the grin dropping from his face. He gripped me tightly as we spun, pinching my skin, but I refused to flinch or recoil from the pain. I could see his eyes darken as he caught on, but I continued anyway. “You see, whilst you were off setting everything up for your big ‘heist’, I was also busy,” I explained, “- busy locating all the men you had waiting in the wings ready for the main event. After all - I knew you couldn’t do this all on your own.” I added with a cheeky wink, the Joker’s eyes stormy under the dark shadow of his brow.  
“I have alerted security to your plan and informed them of your men’s whereabouts and - given their average response time – I would imagine they will be descending on them at any moment.” I predicted and, as I spoke, sirens erupted in the distance. I couldn’t stop a smug grin appearing on my face as we kept spinning on the dancefloor, the Joker’s eyes dark, but his face emotionless.  
He seemed to be lost in his own mind for the moment and he let me direct our dance without resistance, so I headed the back of the room, breaking off our dance at the edge of the room by a fire exit.  
I turned back to him, my face serious, “As a thank you – however - for the dances, I’ll give you one chance to escape.” I told him firmly. “If you take the hall to the right you’ll find the coat closet – take a hooded one and get out of here.” I instructed before turning back to the party, ready to leave this behind me.  
Just as I went to step forward an arm coiled around my chest, roughly pulling me backwards and I stumbled into his chest. I flinched as I felt a familiar blade at my exposed throat, I struggled against him, trying to crane my neck as far away from the offending weapon as I could. “What’s to stop me slitting your pretty throat right now, doll?” He hissed in my ear and now I was terrified, no longer safe in his arms.  
“N-nothing.” I croaked out honestly, the movement in my throat only pressing my skin into knife. I panted in his arms, still using all my muscles to stay away from the edge of the blade.   
Suddenly the knife was gone from my throat and I was pulled roughly around until I faced him again, the momentum momentarily unbalancing me, giving him enough time to take me by surprise and yank me forward until his lips were on mine.  
His lips were cool on mine, firm and possessive, and I melted into them in that moment that seemed to last forever, and yet was over all too quickly.  
He pulled back just as abruptly, his eyes still dark and hungry, but now he wore a mischievous grin on his face as he stepped backwards towards the exit, “See ya’ around, doll.” He promised with a low growl before he disappeared through the fire exit.  
A moment later, security burst through the front door, the police at their heels, all armed and alert, aiming their guns throughout the room, calling for the crime lord who was just escaping in a stolen trench coat down the fire exit, before jumping onto the nearest room top and running off on foot into the night, leaving the screaming sirens behind him.  
I never got my wedding ring back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> Next part is ready so I hope you enjoy!  
> Thank you for all the positive feedback from it! I really appreciate it and it helps me keep going! :D

Once the police had given the room the all clear and we were free to resume our activities, I left. I wasn’t in the mood to be around these people anymore - after the only person’s company I had wanted was gone – and he’d been a psychopathic killer. So I headed straight home, leaving Mathew to continue his schmoozing by himself – he wouldn’t miss me anyway.  
Once back at my flat, I made sure to lock the door behind me before I circled my flat, checking all the windows were down and securely latched – I wasn’t taking any chances. I doubted the Joker would choose to hit anywhere else tonight with the police now on high alerts for any sign of his whereabouts, but I couldn’t be too safe – I had tricked the man after all - even if I had then given him an escape route – and wasn’t sure how he would take it.  
Once I was sure I had done what I could to make myself secure, I flicked the TV on as I headed towards the kitchen, grabbing the open bottle of wine from the fridge that I had started the night before. The news channel played behind me on the screen as I poured myself a glass of wine, the current story reporting on the restoration project underway at city hall.  
The report finished, and the presenter now turned to the new big story – the live coverage of the tonight’s events. “At least 12 men have been arrested tonight at the St. George’s hotel -” I perked up instantly, grabbing my glass and turning to lean on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room area. “- after the police were tipped off by an anonymous caller about a possible hit planned on the two-hundred-year-old building. It was believed the men were working for the Arkham Asylum escapee and well-known crime lord known as Joker – their targets being the leaders and CEOs of many of Gotham’s multi-billion-dollar companies that were gathered in one of the large ballrooms for hire in the hotel.  
“The criminals’ leader - the Joker - was unfortunately not apprehended at the event - reports from eye witness suggest the criminal clown had been residing in the ballroom chosen for the attack and escaped via the fire escape before police could arrive on the scene. The mentally unstable criminal was last seen making a getaway across the rooftops of the neighbouring buildings. Helicopters are believed to now be sweeping Gotham and police urge anyone with evidence or sightings if the villain to come forward, however extreme caution is urge and it is strongly encouraged to by no means confront the criminal. Detective De-“  
I turned off the TV, not wanting to hear what that police had to say about it – doubting it would be much more than their usual promise to capture the criminals still at large which continued to terrorize the streets of Gotham – which of course they rarely fulfilled.  
I was oddly relieved the Joker hadn’t been apprehended – though I had highly doubted that he would be, thanks to the exit route I had provided – the police not yet having time to organise themselves to cover the fire exit on the top floor. The Joker had obviously caught onto the idea I had and made sure to quickly stray from the stairs that led down to the street, instead remaining amongst the rooftops and disappearing into the night before air support had managed to arrive.  
I down the rest of my wine glass quickly, dropping it into the sink for later and heading to bed. I remembered to grab a blanket out of the cupboard in the bedroom, tossing it onto the back of the sofa for Mathew when he finally got home.  
It wasn’t that we couldn’t sleep in the same bed together – Mathew just rarely left the office before ten or eleven and events like tonight could leave him out till the early hours. When he did finally return to the flat, he had a habit of sitting down with a drink continuing to look through the papers he had brought back from the office until he fell asleep at his desk or on the sofa.  
In an attempt to play the role of a supportive wife, I had tried to stay up with him a few times, but I had no wish to spend any more hours staring at numbers on a sheet of paper – getting enough of that during work. I couldn’t even talk to Mathew – he had no focus for anything his work and no conversation was possible that didn’t involve the recent profits or increased taxes and - even then - he tended to be talking to himself.  
The last few times I had tried to stay up with I wound up sat in the armchair next to him twiddling my thumb or reading till I dropped my book from exhaustion. It was a pointless exercise – Mathew didn’t care if I was there or not.  
I had soon learnt I couldn’t change him and just made do with going to bed alone, it wasn’t like I was a pathetic girl that needed her man next to her each night – hell I’d lived on my own for a long time, most of it in a far worst apartment, in a far worse neighbourhood.  
And it wasn’t like I needed him for anything else – I had never found the man that attractive really and apart from our wedding night and whenever he felt like it – not that often – we really didn’t sleep together much either.  
I had soon learnt that living with Mathew was like living with any other roommate. And that was kind of how I view our marriage. We were friends and roommates. Rarely lovers, never in love.  
It wasn’t too bad, it suited us both fine.  
Mathew wasn’t usually home when I went to bed - and he was usually gone before I woke up - so now I just left a blanket and a pillow on the sofa and left him to it. I wasn’t sure if he appreciated the gesture or not - having never heard a word from him about it. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he thought these items materialised of their own accord for him.  
I sighed loudly as I threw his pillow across the room so it hit the couch – landing awkwardly on the cushion so it balanced dangerously on the edge, close to falling off - before I headed back into the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind me.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke the next morning to find the usual – a clearly slept-on sofa, the blanket thrown carelessly back and the pillow at some point knocked the floor. What never ceased to amaze me was how the sofa could be in such a mess, yet his suit was also neatly hung on the bathroom door across the room. I rolled my eyes when I spotted the jacket on its hanger, ignoring it as I tidied up the rest of the mess – he could put that away.  
My usual morning routine went with a hitch, only finally hitting the first problem of the day when I headed down to my car which was parked in the underground carpark below my building.  
My car wouldn’t start.  
I frowned at it as I tried over and over again to start the engine, the car coughing and producing a feeble growl before it died once more.  
“Errrr!” I growled at the steering wheel, clenching my teeth, “Come on!” I cried at it, smacking the edge of it. I glanced down at my watch – shit. I didn’t have time to get someone to come fix it right now - I hadn’t factored a broken down car into my morning and if I didn’t get on the road right now I’d be late my meeting at 9.  
I smacked the wheel one more time, angrily grumbling at the useless contraption before I got out and headed onto the street above – I’d catch a cab and phone the repairman once I got to work to arrange for them to come by that evening to sort my car out.  
I managed to hail a cab quite quickly and I slid into the back seat, calling the address to the driver, my attention already focused on my work phone where I had just refreshed my inbox and already had more emails than I could possibly read in a day. The taxi moved off as I settled into the well-worn seats, starting the huge job of responding to each message that truly needed my input.  
I got so engrossed in a series of emails about a possible glitch in our systems, that I didn’t notice the journey or the scenery of Gotham that flew past us. It was only as I finally signed off on an email trying to clear things up, that I realised I felt as though I’d been in this car a lot longer than usual. I frowned to myself - maybe just answering the email had felt like forever. I glanced at the clock on my phone - I was late for my meeting.  
“Shit.” I mumbled to myself. It was odd though, I didn’t remember us being stuck in that much traffic for me to be this late. I looked out my window try to figure out how much longer we would be.  
That was even odder – hadn’t that been Gotham General we’d just past? It couldn’t be. The hospital was nearly on the other side of town to the INK building.  
I kept my gaze out of the window as a few non-descript buildings flashed past. No, I had been right because there was the East-side bridge – I knew those larger, gothic pillars anywhere.  
Shit. Maybe I’d said the wrong address in my rush? But where else would I have said? Maybe the driver had just heard me wrong?  
“Um, excuse me?” I asked, leaning forward and peering across at the driver, his face hidden by his peculiar old fedora-like hat. “I think you must have the wrong address.” I said, trying to remain polite - though I was worrying about how I was going to save this meeting now I was already over 15 minutes late.  
The car suddenly swerved across 2 lanes of traffic, and I was forced to grip the head rest of the empty chair in front of me to stop myself from flying.  
“Change of plan doll face!” Came an all too familiar voice from the driver’s seat. “We’re going for a drive!” He exclaimed, and I could hear the grin in his voice.  
I immediately jerked backwards and he let out a loud cackle, taking a hand off the wheel to remove the odd hat and reveal his vibrant green hair, ruffled and messy from the confinement. He looked up at the rear-mirror and met my eyes, his own shining in humour at the shock that must have been on my face. He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back into place, though a few strands resisted and fell across his face. I could feel my heart pounding at the surprise and I tried to push myself as inconspicuously as possibly into the opposite corner of the car - I didn’t want him to know that I was terrified of being caught unawares with him in such an enclosed space – especially after I had managed to make a fool of him last night.  
“You look like you’ve see a ghost, kitten,” He told me with mock worry, “Or maybe a clown!” He suggested, beaming widely at me through the mirror. I tried to regain my composure, remaining silent, but fixing him hard, unimpressed stare.  
“Where are you taking me?” I asked firmly, not letting him get to me.  
Joker rolled his eyes at me, dropping his smile, his gaze becoming hard and almost deadly as he suddenly slammed on the brakes, causing me to fly forward into the chair in front. Just as suddenly he then swerved to the left - throwing me to the opposite side of the car – and rapidly accelerated, undertaking a lorry before swinging back into the original lane once more.  
He glanced back at the mirror, his grin back in place and so wide it almost made him look in pain, “Come on, doll – it’s a joke – laugh a little!” He beamed at me. I didn’t laugh though, just kept up my hard stare, refusing to be intimidated by his driving and refusing to look away even if his blue eyes weren’t holding mine in their iron grasp.  
“You know I could just call the police, right?” I asked, waving my phone at him that was still in my hand.  
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, kitten,” He began before violently jerking the wheel to the right, then almost instantly jerking it back again – only just missing the car on our right - “I’m not exactly trying to hide!” He cried manically, swinging the car smoothly into the left lane and slamming his foot onto the accelerator, causing the engine to roar before we then shot forward.  
Though I felt myself grip the car seat beneath me, I couldn’t help the thrill that ran through me – the wanton disregard for traffic laws and the reckless speed was exciting and quite an adrenaline rush – something I hadn’t experienced in years.  
The Joker didn’t let up on the gas and we continued to speed down the streets, the Joker appearing to barely be in control of the car, yet still managing to avoid every car in the rush hour traffic – though some quite narrowly. I wasn’t sure how many car accidents we created in our wake as we flew down the road, but the adrenaline coursing through me was making it hard not to grin and a small voice in the back of my mind kept daring the Joker to go faster - almost intrigued at the thought of a collision - be it us or someone else.  
Suddenly a red stop light appeared at the cross junction ahead of us and I watched in a mixture of fear and excitement as we barrelled down the main road to where traffic to the left and right were already flooding through, the Joker not letting up on our speed. I couldn’t see us stopping in time now if the Joker didn’t brake soon and I wanted to close my eyes but I couldn’t - too transfixed on the cars in front that were rushing up to meet us. Suddenly I was flung forward once more into the passenger seat in front of me as Joker slammed the brake on hard. I clung to the chair in front of me as we skidded to a halt exactly on the white line – only a few inches from the rest of the rushing traffic.  
I didn’t realise I had been holding my breath but I let it go now in a short exhale as I unwrapped my fingers from where I had dug them into the passenger seat in front of me, my heart pounding erratically at the near-death experience.  
“Besides, doll.” The Joker perked up from the front seat, looking completely unfazed at what had just happened. “I have a rag and a bottle of chloroform up here if you’re not willing to be my friend.” He grinned, wide and cheesy at me as though he hadn’t just threatened to knock me out. I was still recovering from the close call and didn’t say anything, just stared back at him warily as to whether he had been joking or not – I suspected not.  
The light turned green in front of us and Joker hit the gas again causing the tires to screech and squeal underneath us before we accelerated viciously out into the junction. Joker swung the car to the right, causing the tail to flick out dangerously into the lane next to us and at least one car had to swerve to avoid us. I prayed the car could hold up the hell Joker was putting it through and the wheels not suddenly decide to burst under the fierce demands.  
I settled back against my seat as we barrelled down a relatively open piece of road, the car falling into silence. I tried not to enjoy the freedom of the racing down the streets – knowing it was clearly illegal and wrong – instead trying to focus on a way out of this situation.  
I had accepted there was nothing I could say or do to the Joker to get him to let me go and I watched the flats and offices blur past my window, my fingers anxiously fiddling with my phone that still sat in my hand as I tried to think. I looked down at the black screen and suddenly had a small piece of a plan. I place my phone down on the seat next to me so it was hidden between the car door and my leg, hopefully out of sight thanks to the shield of my thigh.  
I glanced back up at the Joker to check he wasn’t watching, but his eyes were still on the road as we continued to break the speed limit, the ride much smoother now he felt he’d scared me enough with his erratic driving.  
Content, I turned my attention back to window next to me, resuming my absent stare, typing out a message to my husband out of the corner of my eye – glad that I’d sent so many messages from my phone that I could basically type a whole paragraph with my eyes shut.  
It wasn’t much when I had finished, but at least it was something – maybe at least someone would find my body after all of this, I thought in mocking cheer. At least it conveyed my situation as well I could for now. I hit the send button and returned my entire concentration back onto the streets outside where the usual rainy weather of the city had once again begun, large drops of water spotting the almost-dry pavement.  
Suddenly the Joker let out a low growl of annoyance and I turned my attention back to him as he rolled his neck, his jaw clenched. I could feel my heart already pounding, he suddenly looked dangerous, completely different from the joking man he’d been a moment ago.  
Suddenly he violently swung the car off the road and I grabbed at my seat to avoiding being thrown around again. The car jerked as we mounted the pavement and I tried to make out where we were going but all I could see was the side of a building rushing towards us. I braced for the impact I knew I couldn’t survive, hiding my face this time. When I didn’t feel anything, I snapped my head back up only to see the rest of the road disappearing behind us as the tires screeched in protest and we cornered sharply into an alleyway.  
Once the car was safely concealed between the two protective brick walls the Joker snapped the clutch in place and was out the door before I could register we had even stopped.  
My mind quickly caught onto what was happening as Joker made his way round to the door closest to me. I snapped my seatbelt off and shuffled across the back seat, positioning myself as best I could. As soon as I heard the lock mechanism click I kicked out as hard as I could against the door. I felt it connect with the Joker and cause him to stumble backwards slightly. I made the most of the small moment I had and scrambled out of the car, immediately making an attempt to run out of the alley and back onto the main street where there was a slim chance I might find help or at least shelter.  
I didn’t make it more than a few strides however, before I felt a hand catch hold of the back of my jacket, fingers entangling in my long hair that fanned out behind in the wind. He yanked me easily backwards, my feet slipping on the wet pavement underfoot, and shoved me backwards till I was pinned up against one of the walls of the alley by his body, on of this hands at my throat.  
I struggled against his hold but I soon had to concede that he was too strong for me to do anything but tire myself out and the more I struggled the tighter his grip on my throat got, making it hard to breathe.  
“You didn’t want to be my friend, doll, hmm?” He asked, his voice gravelly and his breathing harsh through his open mouth, “Or did you, hmm? But your morals are just too strong?” He grinned manically down at me, his eyes alight with understanding and I felt like he already knew me better than I did.  
“Do what you want!” I snarled at him, “Now people know what’s happened to me and you can’t change that!”  
His grip on my throat tightened even more and I squirmed again rubbing my back raw on the rough brick behind me as I tried in in vain to free my arms from where they were pinned under his body.  
“Oh, I don’t want to change that, kitten.” He told with a slight airy chuckle as though I was a fool. “People need to know you’re gone, doll…” He breathed down at me, “…for the plan to work.” He grinned, his metal teeth clear and evident against his red lips inches from my face.  
“You should know, doll – it is your plan after all.” He said, dipping his head to look up at me through his eye lashes, his invisible eyebrows raised - as though he was shocked I hadn’t caught on yet.  
That’s when it clicked with me – he was kidnapping me to complete the plan I had suggested to him the night before. Shit. Why did I say anything to him yesterday? Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Everyone planned the little criminal things they’d do if they could – why had I shared mine? What was it about the man in front of me that made so reckless and giddy?  
“Now, all I need for you to do is breathe….” The Joker growled at me lowly, bringing a rag up to my face in his free hand. I tried one last ditch attempt to get away but I knew it was hopeless before I had even started and, when the cloth finally enveloped my mouth and nose, I resigned myself to my fate and inhaled deeply, drowsiness soon overcoming me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long! I've been struggling to concentrate, especially on the editing!  
> I'm also back at uni now, so i'll have a little less time, but I'll try to keep up with posting a piece of writing at least once a week!

When I woke up, the first thing I tried to do was move. Soon figuring out that I couldn’t. My legs and hands pulling against a course rope-like material to what could only be a chair beneath me.  
The room around me was completely dark, no single glimmer of light could be found anywhere, not even the faint glow often produced from a window. Nothing.   
The darkness was so complete it felt solid and oppressive, like it was closing in on me, forcing me into a tiny box with no air. Though I had never been one to suffer from claustrophobia, I couldn’t help the increase in heart rate and sharp breaths I took as the sensation overwhelmed my senses.   
I pulled again, this time more desperately, at any part of my body that would move. My head was free, not even a gag wedged into my mouth, but this just told me that there was no point in screaming for help, as clearly this wasn’t a threat to my imprisonment. My legs, however, were bound close to my ankle so they were pressed up against what I could only assume was the leg of the chair I was sat on, and my wrists were tied together against something hard behind me in a way that meant my shoulders were pulled at an achingly uncomfortable angle.  
I pulled at my bindings in any direction I could, searching and praying for some weakness or loosening that I could take advantage of. Suddenly my ears pricked up and I froze. For a moment, I thought I had imagined it, but then the room filled with a harsh, bright artificial light that scorched my eyes and forced me to squint in pain.  
“Ah, good, the beauty awakes.” Came a smooth, almost sinister voice from behind me, all too familiar and I could suddenly feel my heart, strong and heavy in my chest. I wanted to crane my neck around to look at him, but I resisted, trying to maintain my composure and acting like being tied to a chair - in what I now could see was a solid concrete room – was only a minor setback in my life.  
I heard the heels of his shoes tap lightly on the bare floor as he moved up behind me and I felt, rather than saw, him circle around me, my eyes still adjusting to the light.  
“I like you, doll.” He purred at me, and I felt like I could feel the sound vibrating through my bones. “You’re not stupid like most…” He drawled, stepping further around till he was stood directly in front of me, leaning down so his face was level with mine. He studied my face as though he was looking for something in my eyes and I found it hard to keep his gaze, wishing my legs were free so I could jerk a knee right up to the unprotected area between his legs and show him just how much I appreciated this situation.   
He seemed read what I wanted to do in my face, because he chuckled at me. “You see, doll, you’ve got brains,” He reached out and took my face in his hand forcefully, his fingers digging into my chin as I tried to pull away. “You know when to fight -” He purred, uncaring towards my struggles and his heavy breathing pushed against my lips, the scent of whiskey and smoke curling under my nose. I was now all too familiar with the feeling worming its way in my lower abdomen and I twisted my head away as strongly as I could, finally slipping free of his grip, “- and when to concede.” He growled through gritted teeth, and a cold, sharp object under my chin made me realize my freedom was short lived.  
I met his gaze once more, staring determinedly back at his stony eyes, refusing to show fear at my vulnerable position. We stayed in that position for a few beats, neither of us bulking under each other’s gaze, until the Joker’s face erupted into a grin and he removed the pressure on my skin and holding the blade aloft between our faces before he then wrenched himself backward till he towered above me once more  
I scowled up at his little game, but he ignored me, turning his back and wandering to the wooden desk that I now noticed sat directly in front of me. He didn’t take the seat behind the desk, instead propping himself on the edge of it, fiddling with the purple handled blade that had, a moment ago, been at my throat.  
He was clearly waiting for me to say something, and though I didn’t want to satisfy him, the silly game was getting to me, and my head was still heavy and clouded from the drugged rag. I sighed to myself, rolling my eyes at his ridiculous behavior.   
“So, tell me.” I said, trying to keep my composure calm and uncaring about the fact my arm felt like it was going to fall off and my feet were becoming numb. “How long am I supposed to be your prisoner?” I asked politely, maintaining my eye contact with him. “Just till you get bored? Or till you decide to kill me?”  
He stopped twirling his knife for a moment, leaning back slightly in theatrical shock, “Aww, doll! You’re not a prisoner!” He exclaimed. “You’re a… Guest!” He said, twirling his wrist and flicking the blade around without a care, as he sought the word from his messed-up mind, “A colleague!” He amended.  
I couldn’t help noticing that he had ignored my question, but I let it past. “Funny.” I muttered, watching the knife spin in his hand with a bored expression on my face. “Do you tie all your colleagues up like this?” I asked with a raised brow and slight smirk.   
The Joker considered this with exaggerated concern for a moment. Almost instantly, like a swtich had been flicked, his face was wiped clean, his features now deadly serious. He leapt off the desk dramatically, landing cleanly on his feet and turning back to me. I watched him carefully as he strolled back toward me, swinging his arms carelessly, the knife still in his hand.  
He paused in front of me again, leaning down once more to my level and pointing the knife at my chest, though it didn’t touch me. I dragged my gaze from the weapon to his face and was almost flinched at the look in his eyes, the odd fire bringing back the sharp memory of last night’s kiss and causing my skin to burn. “Only if they beg for it, doll.” He purred seductively. I couldn’t find I clever come back to this, suddenly becoming mute.  
“As much as I’d love to stay and chat, doll,” Joker proclaimed, straightening back up right and slipping the blade back into his pocket, “I have a few more things to take of.” He said cheerfully, already moving past me and disappearing out of my peripheral vision. The minute he had stood back I felt myself able to breathe again and I allowed my eyes to follow him, craning my neck as I tracked his movement to the solid door directly behind me which was flanked by two large, burly men.  
Joker glanced back at me in the doorway, a grin on his face once more, “I’ll leave the light on for ya, doll.” He teased, “You’re beginning to look as pale as me!” He gave a sharp bark of laughter before disappearing through around the corner, the heavy door closing behind him with a firm thud.  
I could feel the eyes of the men on my back and I waited a few beats before I even dared to move. I looked down at my chair – it was old, spindly and wooden – and I began to try to shift and twist where I could in an attempt to identify any weak spots or loose bindings that I could use to my advantage. I sensed no movement behind me from the men, and a quick glance showed only impenetrable masks of indifference on their faces.  
I stopped my squirming for a moment. “So, are you guys allowed to chat or…?” I asked, not bothering to turn around and addressing the desk instead.   
Nothing.  
“Aww, come on….” I whined, practically mimicking the Joker, “I’m bored!” Still nothing. As I had expected. They were my silent guardians, no chatting, no chance of convincing them to release me or getting them close enough to pull anything. Great.  
One thing left then. I needed to get myself free and somehow take down the two men that were going to try to stop me. I couldn’t hesitate. I was going to have to do this and get it right the first time – if I messed it up, the movement alone would trigger a response in the men. Surprise would be my only weapon here.  
I leant backwards, tipping my chair onto the back legs and steadying myself with the tips of my toes. I then, quickly, used all my strength to jump the chair as high as I could before I came crashing back down on the back legs of the chair, bracing myself as the wood splintered around me and I smacked into the concrete floor.  
I didn’t have time to worry about any injuries, immediately pushing myself up into a crouch as the men came running at me from across the room. I snatched up one of the broken chair legs that lay dislodged on the floor and scrambled to my feet, spinning and using my momentum to crash my makeshift weapon into the nearest man, knocking him squarely on the head and toppling him to the floor.   
The other man didn't hesitate from his buddy’s take down, continuing to run straight at me and knocking us both to the ground. He would easily have pinned me with his weight but I threw my arms up so my hands landed on his solid chest, then I locked my elbows so that I caught him, though my arms were jolted under his weight and I grimaced in pain.   
The guy seemed surprised at my reflexes and I made the most of this, instantly moving my arms to grab his upper arms and managing to curl my legs up from under the guy so they were folded onto my chest. I then kicked out violently at any body part I could reach, managing several hits to the chest, stomach and crotch sending him wheeling backwards. I rolled out from under him in the few seconds I had, reaching for another piece of broken chair and swinging round with all my weight to crash it into the guy’s head.  
The minute it was done I snapped back to myself, acutely aware I had just done rather serious damage to two of the Joker’s huge henchmen. I instinctively crawled backwards away from the unconscious bodies, my heart pounding and my breath coming in short pants. I half expected the noise I’d created to have drawn reinforcements and I watched the door warily, waiting for it to slam open and for me to be surrounded by even more goons and a raging criminal clown.  
But nothing happened. I waited a few more minutes, too stunned and out of breath to move, but no sound came from the other side of the door and I calmed slightly, taking in the scene around me. I pushed myself to my feet, rubbing at the bruises formed from the multiple collisions with the solid floor. I grabbed the pieces of rope from the wreckage of the chair and, after pushing and pulling the two large men so they were leant up against each other, I bound them up – feel no remorse for how tight I wound the rope.   
I stepped back from the men, admiring my handiwork - I didn’t want them waking up whilst I was still here. I returned my attention to the rest of the room, drinking in any possible escape routes. There were no windows in the room, just 4 solid concrete walls lined with a few pieces of furniture such as filing cabinets and locked cupboards. I glanced up, taking note of the vents in the ceiling, but soon realizing they were too high even if I could manage to drag the desk directly below them to use as step up. I might have been able to reach, had I placed the chair on top of the desk, but now that plan lay in pieces at my feet - so that was no longer an option.  
My only choice left was the door. I tried it, despite my doubts - hoping that the Joker might have been naïve enough to think that me being tied to the chair would have been enough security - but a quick twist of the handle – or lack thereof – proved that theory wrong. I turned back to the still-unconscious men tied together and rummaged through their pockets on the off chance they had a key, but my search came up empty.  
I stepped back upright again, sighing heavily in defeat. So much for taking out the guards, there was still no way out of the room. My plan wasn’t looking so clever anymore. All I could do now was wait until someone came back and found me waiting for them. Maybe I could sneak up behind them and knock them out like I had the other men, then make my escape out of the door. Though, that plan would only work if it was only one person at the door, and so far, J had always come with at least two other men in tow.  
Frowning to myself in thought, I impatiently paced the small room, scuffing my feet on the floor in agitation. My eyes were drawn to the desk and I moved over to it, examining it. It wasn’t the most expensive and newest desk, but it wasn’t exactly a school teacher’s throwaway either, and in its day, it had probably been very handsome, but now the leather features were worn and the surface scratched and abused.  
I trailed my hand over the marks on the wood, wondering what had made them, before I worked around my way around to the other side of the desk and threw myself down into the leather office chair, not before noticing many large gashes in the upholstery that reminded me of the marks from a knife. I surveyed the desk from my seated position now, my eyes immediately flying to the drawers on either side of - one on the right, 2 on the left. I tried to pull at the one on the right, but I soon found it was locked tight. I frowned in annoyance, but turned my attention now to the left ones instead. The top drawer was full of general stationary and a few odd scraps of paper with scribbles on them. I pulled open the one beneath to find a drawer of files like that in a filing cabinet. Each file was numbered and I pulled at one of them randomly – #967 – and flipped open the file, exposing documents and blueprints for a heist and ransom on a gala, not unlike the one from last night. I put the file back, plucking out another one – 974. This one showed the details for a bank robbery that, according to the date, took place 2 weeks ago.  
I returned the files. All the ones I had chosen were for past crimes. I worked my way further forward in the filing system, choosing the one right at the front. I pulled it out, opening it up. #981. This one was due to take place tomorrow night.  
My curiosity got the better of me and I leafed through it. This job seemed to be a hit on the Gotham museum thanks to a precious artefact display having recently been advertised – I remember seeing the bill boards for it on my journey to work over the last few weeks. I perused the plans and couldn’t help but, based on my knowledge of the museum, criticize some of the choices that had been made. I bit down the urge to correct the mistakes, but the flaws stood out like sore thumbs and the alterations were just too simple to resist. Hell, it wasn’t like I had anything else to do and besides, I couldn’t stop them from doing the job – not whilst I was stuck in here. I dug around in the top left drawer and extracted a pencil, circling and scribbling notes on the papers.  
Plus, I continued to argue with myself, still trying to console my guilty conscience, if the Joker and his men went in with this plan with all these errors, they would surely run into the police, then there would bound to be a shootout at the very least and casualties would occur on both sides. At least this way – with my edits - they would get in and out with few injuries to either side.   
Of course, it was the side of the police that I cared about.   
I added arrows pointing directions, wrote in notes about cameras I knew existed, but which didn’t seem to be on the map yet. I sat back after what felt like at least 30 minutes of pouring over the work and smiled, content at my additions, and I slid it back into the drawer, ready for the day it would be needed.  
As I waited, common sense warned me to get out of the chair, but a stronger voice piped up, urging me with a new-found confidence and cheek that told me to stay at the desk and wait for the look on the Joker’s face when he found me lounging in his chair with the bodies of his two henchmen knocked out at my feet.   
Let him make what he wanted of that.   
With that thought I put my feet up on the desk in front of me and leant back, relaxed and waiting for the door to open.  
I didn’t have much concept of time as I waited in my square, windowless room, but eventually I heard the scratching of the key in the lock, and the door swung open to reveal the famous criminal framed in the doorway.  
Any surprise he got from the scene laid out before him must have been quickly hidden because I saw no hesitation in his steps, his eyes briefly surveying the bodies still unconscious and tied together, before they moved to me still propped up in his desk chair.  
“Doll.” He greeted, eyeing me up. His lack of care was unsettling, I had been so confident whilst I had waited for him to return, but now he was here, his whole attention focused on me, I was quickly sobering up and I could myself dwindling under his glare.  
I sat up a bit straighter, taking my feet off the desk, but refusing to leave the chair as he stepped into the room, two new, conscious, men behind him, though they remained at the door as he wandered closer.  
“I see you’ve entertained yourself.” He pointed out, his eyes not leaving mine, though I knew he referred to the men.  
I didn’t say anything, refusing to break his unyielding gaze and returning my own cold glare, attempting to be undeterred by his lack of response. His eyes turned back to his two men bound together by the rope that had previously held me.  
“I must admit, doll, I’m impressed.” He admitted, his eyes still on the men, surveying my methods.  
“Thank you.” I said defiantly and his eyes flashed to mine, a look of warning at my cheek automatically flaring in his eyes before it was replaced with a mad gleam and a grin spread across his face.  
“Come on, doll. Let’s find you a new room with a bit more light.” He beamed, signaling for me to follow him. I hesitated only briefly before I slipped out of the chair and followed after him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I’m desperately trying to keep up with my writing - so here’s a new part for you!
> 
> Its a bit shorter than usual, but I felt like that was good place to finish this part!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> As always feel free to leave comments/messages etc. I really miss them! 
> 
> Also if you have requests or anything just let me know!

I soon gathered as I wandered through the building that we must be in a huge warehouse. The corridors were bare and concrete and several times we crossed large open rooms that spanned far into the darkness on either side of me, and the ceiling was nowhere in sight. I climbed a tall staircase and walked a long corridor until I had wound up in the room I now found myself locked in. It was larger than the last one, and looked more comfortable too. There was a large four-poster double bed in the centre of the room, a simple chest of drawers with a tall wing back chair between it and a door that must once have led to a store cupboard but was now a wardrobe.  
There was a single window, but the curtains were drawn over it and I soon figured out why when I pulled them away to find the glass cloudy and streaky with grime so I couldn’t see out of it apart from a few shadowy outlines of what I guess were buildings or lamp posts.  
When I reached a tentative hand out to wiped at the glass I withdrew my hand, searching for the shadow of filth I had wiped off, but I found my fingers perfectly clean. The grime was on the outside. The room itself was completely pristine, but the outside was far from it. The building probably just looked like one of the many grubby, abandoned warehouses scattered around Gotham - and maybe some of the other rooms here did – but this one, when I turned away from the window, looked like something close to a penthouse suite. The detailed floral wallpaper and the plush carpets that made it hard to remember there was hardwearing concrete surrounding me.  
However, as nice as the room was, I was still locked in here. I had heard the latch turn when the door was closed behind the henchman that had escorted me in here. I didn’t know where the Joker had vanished to, and I wasn’t sure I was going to find out.  
Despite the residual pounding in my skull from the knock out I had inhaled, I refused the overwhelming temptation to lie down on the large, cushiony bed. Instead I continued to pace, hoping the movement would keep me conscious, despite the constant drag of the drug on my mind. I rubbed at my face with my hands aggressively, willing myself to keep alert.   
I continued to pace back and forth for at least half an hour before my feet began to protest and my mind was falling asleep to the same monotonous striding and turning. I was going to be asleep on my feet soon. I gave in to the urge and allowed myself to perch on the edge of the bed, soon allowing myself to fall backwards onto the duvet and cushions behind me. This is fine. I could just lie here and wait. At least I could hear if anyone approached the door.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next I knew my eyes snapped open and I briefly had no idea where I was. It flooded back to me quickly and I scrambled off the bed, on my feet in an instant, tense and my muscles ready for fight or flight.   
There was a slight delay for my mind to catch up to my sudden movements as I scanned the room and I almost didn’t immediately acknowledged the man sat in the wingback chair. My eyes snapped back to him. The Joker. He wore the same clothes as I had seen him in earlier, so clearly, I couldn’t have been out too long. He sat with his legs open wide, a cane planted between his feet and both hands folded over the handle as he waited patiently, his eyes serious and ringed with dark shadows, his mouth a vibrant red and slightly hung open as he watched me. I stared back at him for a moment before I had an idea. If he was here… My gaze darted to the doorway that was now directly in front of me, the Joker to my right and on the other side of the bed. I immediately looked back to him, not willing to take my eyes off him for too long. If he was in here, should I try to make a run for it? I couldn’t guarantee that he hadn’t locked himself in here with me, or that there weren’t henchmen waiting on the other side as guards, but was it worth a chance if I could make a run for it?  
Then a movement caught my eye and I let my eyes stray from the Joker long enough to realise that stood near to him, hidden from my view behind the thick curtains that hung around each of the posts of the bed, stood a suited man. As if reading my mind, or having received a silent order, the man strode across the room and stopped so that he now silently blocked my path to the door.  
I didn’t know why I was locked in here, or why Joker was in here too, but it was clear leaving was not an option thanks to the large, muscular guard that now barred my exit. I took a breath when I realised I had been holding it. The last thing I wanted to do now was show any kind of fear. That was a weakness in this criminal’s eyes and I didn’t want to show him any weakness. I tried to gain back some control on the situation - the more I looked out of control and panicked by what was going on, the more the Joker would think he had the upper hand. That wasn’t something I wanted.  
I gave the guard a brief, forced smile which I then turned on J in a way to say I would play along with their little game without a struggle. I walked past the guard who turned as I moved past him, eyes following my movements I walked around the bed so I was on the same side as the Joker before then perching myself on the edge of the bed so I faced him. Ready and waiting for the reason he was here, in my mind trying to turn this into a business meeting. I knew how to work those situations and it was clear that the Joker wanted something from me – and I in turn wanted something from him. I wasn’t in much of a position to start making wild demands, but I could make something work - this was my terrain after all.  
I interlaced my fingers together and rested them on my lap. “I presume you are after something from me?” I asked, polite and formal, like I was in a meeting for a new business negotiation.  
“Leave.” The Joker suddenly said, his eyes on me and I thought for a moment it was directed at me, but then I heard the door close and I glanced behind me to see the large man had left. I turned my attention back to the Joker who was still considering me over his cane. His eyes felt like they were reading every rebellious thought in my mind. His face was still deadly serious when he spoke, none of the joking I had previously known. “Well, doll.” He began, his tone matching my own and playing along with me so for a moment I truly felt we were back in my board room. However, I caught a dangerous glint in his eyes when he leant toward me and the dim light through the break in the curtains caught his eye. “You see, I’ve just been looking over the details of a job planned for tonight.” He explained, suddenly producing a familiar folder and waving it around in the air as he spoke. “When I discovered a series of scribbles and annotations on the plans.” He mused, flicking through the folder for effect, clearly not reading anything he was seeing. “Now…” He drawled, “I am pretty sure it wasn’t me…” he mused, but for a moment I thought he might actually be taking this into serious consideration. “So, either someone decided this was a good document to doodle in, or I would say someone was trying to edit a carefully constructed plan.” His eyes had been down on the papers the whole time, but now they shot up to me suggestively and I had to stop myself from flinching at the accusing look.  
“And… - whilst the idea of torturing and interrogating everyone in the building does sound fun…” He drawled, tilting his head as he acknowledged the enjoyment this would give him, “It would be a terrible waste of my precious time...” He pondered to himself and I felt like he was toying with.  
I could feel a lump in my throat and I swallowed. Why did I feel so threatened? Maybe because it’s you he’s talking about, muttered a voice in my head.  
Suddenly the Joker was on his feet. “Of course, there are ways to narrow down my list of suspects.” He mused to himself, pacing slow steps in front of me “ – to make sure I can fit the punishment into my busy day.” He was talking as though it was only him in the room. “After all, it is hard to ignore the rather delicate feminine style of the writing,” He murmured, “and the overwhelming fact that you were the only one in my office today other than the two guards you so kindly knocked out.” His eyes now met me, finally acknowledging my existence as he stepped, the folder still clenched in his hand. I wished he go back to ignoring me as his blues eyes made me want to squirm. I couldn’t help but feel like I was in the gallows, on trial for a crime I was definitely guilty of.   
“So, what I want from you, princess, is this,” my executioner summarised. “Did you by any chance try to edit my plan?”  
Guilty. “Yes.” I admitted. There was no point in denying it. I expected I was probably the only girl in this entire building so my ‘feminine writing’ was evidence enough, I might as well confess. “I was bored, so I looked through your desk.” I saw his jaw tighten slightly at this. “I read through several old plans of yours, and then discovered that one.” I nodded towards the folder in his hand. “I thumbed through it and found several details that appeared to be quite flawed and possibly problematic. I used my available time to rectify them.” I said confidently, no apology in my voice.  
The Joker raised his invisible eyebrows at my confession. “And you, kitten, think your additions have added something to this scheme?” He asked incredulously, with a mocking smile, and a quiet, dangerous calm voice - which was more frightening that if he just yelled at me. I swallowed back my fear, trying to keep a hold on my courage.  
“Maybe!” I snapped at him, annoyed at how arrogant he was being and I watched as any sign of humour dropped from his face. I was on thin ice now.  
But I’d managed to pull one over on him before – back at the party – however long ago that was. So why did he still not think any of my ideas would be any good? Maybe because he managed to pull one over on you too when he kidnapped you the small voice reminded me from the back of my mind.  
I scowled at my own annoy thoughts before turning my attention back on the crime lord that still stood before me.   
“Have you even bothered to read any of my suggestions?” I asked, irritated at him and now myself, ignoring the sinister look in his eyes that told me he was not impressed with my gall.  
“Cute, doll.” He patronised me with a wide grin that made his eyes go almost squinty. “But all my plans go off without fail, as long as the bat doesn’t get involved,” he muttered bitterly, “and I know for a fact he’s occupied elsewhere tonight.” He added, perking up again, “I don’t require your input – however keen you are to give it.” He said snidely looking down at me still sat on the bed.  
I let out a loud, heavy sigh. “Look.” I snapped in annoyance, shoving myself to my feet so I was basically eye level with him. “I’m not saying your plan wouldn’t work – hell with your madness I’m certain it probably would!” I exclaimed, throwing my hand in the air in exasperation, “but,” I said quickly, holding up a finger to him, “you’d probably end up losing at least half of your men and you risk leaving some sort of evidence behind you – you’re taking too many risks for really no good reason.” I pointed out, crossing my arms in finality.   
“That’s the flare, doll.” He pointed out stubbornly.   
I rolled my eyes. “You'd rather there be flare and an increased risk of the plan failing and you being caught?”  
“Watch it, doll.”  
I frowned, ignoring his warning. I thought for a moment. “Let me see that.” I held out my hand for the folder. The Joker hesitated, not use to people demanding things from him. He seemed to be considering between doing what I asked or shooting me.  
He growled in annoyance at me, twisting his neck as if this moment was painfully difficult. I didn’t react to his behaviour, simply keeping my hand out towards him, waiting patiently until he was ready and he begrudgingly handed it over to me.   
I took it from him and flicked through to the main page where I had done most of my edits on. I ran my eyes over the plan and the alterations again. I turned my back on the Joker, facing the bed and bending over to flattening the map of the museum floors out onto the duvet, barely registering that I had no longer had my eyes on the criminal still supposedly stood behind me. “Look.” I said, snapping myself back upright and proudly waving down at the paper. “Flare.”  
I glanced back at the Joker to see if he was listening and I thought I saw the Joker’s eyes snap up from my ass, but I was probably just imaging it. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he ignored it, moving to my side without comment, as if nothing had happened. He studied the paper on the bed and I narrated for him, pointing out my ‘scribbles’. “You see, all these rooms have these large screens that play back what some of the security cameras are seeing - so people can see they’re being watched.” I explained, pointing out the areas where I had drawn on little boxes to represent screens. “Hack into these and you can have all the ‘flare’ of making snarky comments at someone in the room without actually risking being in that same room.” I explained, my eyes on the map, worried I’d lose my courage if I looked at the Joker’s unimpressed face. “Plus – the fact you’re on that screen will make it look like you’re in the main control room. The cops and security will run up to the top floor where the control room is, giving your men plenty of time to do what they need to downstairs without any problem - or at least with fewer cops in the way. All the while whoever is on the screen can be safe and comfy somewhere else entirely! Hell, you could probably get the connection to run all the way back here!”  
Suddenly the blueprint was snatched out from under my gaze. I looked up to the Joker where he glared down at me with a dark scowl. “That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble, doll.” He warned me with a low growl, before he strode out of the room without another word. I heard the lock turn behind him, leaving me alone in the room and realising I had never tried to make a deal with him and I had no idea what was going to happen to me now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, sorry this one has taken so long for me to write! But I've been creating an Fan fiction advent calendar at the moment (one piece of fan fiction writing each day up to the 25th December) and I thought I'd write the next part as part of that (day 4), so it is slightly Christmasy (but barely haha)  
> Hope you enjoy anyway

The cold air whipped past my window, I could hear it hollowing against the panes of glass, and I thought - though it was hard to tell through the murky glass and the dark streets - that a snow flurry had begun. I hugged myself tightly. It wasn’t cold in the room, but just the sound of the weather outside made me shiver.  
I had been left in the room now for probably at least 6 hours – though I had no way to tell. My stomach was empty and pulling at me sharp and painfully, and I was bored out of my mind. I had explored my room a bit, but found very little of interest – the contents of the wardrobes and dressers only entertaining me for the short time it took to empty them.   
I had managed to fall asleep for a few hours, but something unknown had awoken me, and now I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the grimy window, unable to sleep thanks to my protesting stomach.  
I had even tried knocking at the door in the hope of getting an answer, but received nothing back. I don’t think the joker had even bothered to post guards on the other side of the door – there wasn’t like there was anyway I get out of this room.  
It was definitely snowing, I thought to myself as I watched something white float past the window, then another, and another, the white smudges dancing and twirling around each other, catching the light just enough to let me see them before they dashed back into the darkness. First snow of the year. That was nice. And where was I? Trapped in a dressed-up warehouse cell, I thought bitterly to myself. The view would have been much nicer from the top floor of the office block, at my desk with a cup of coffee and a bagel or pastry.  
The idea of food made my stomach pang again and I tried to block the idea from my mind. “So much for being a bloody guest,” I grumbled to myself, “doesn’t even bother to offer any food service.” Maybe I was going to go loopy in this room. Maybe that was his plan.  
And so, I continued to watch the window, focusing on the gradual layer of white that built up on the ledge outside, wishing I could open the window somehow and touch it. I settled instead on placing my hand against the cold glass, imaging what it would feel like and leaning my forehead against the window pane as I tried to think about anything other than being stuck in this room, or how hungry I was.   
I sighed loudly, my breath hitting the cold glass and spreading outwards, obscuring a large circle with fog. I moved my hand, now placing in directly in the centre of the fog, then removing it, smiling childishly at the hand print left behind.  
I exhaled another large rush of air and began to doodle randomly. Some were just simple swirls or shapes, but soon joking with myself by writing help backwards even though I knew no one could see it. I felt like an idiot, taking such fun from such a trivial thing, but at least it was taking my mind off everything else.

I don’t know how long I had banged around in that room when I eventually heard someone. I practically jumped out of my skin when I finally heard the sound of footsteps - not having heard anything for over 8 hours. I had been lying on my bed, praying that I could take a nap to let the time pass quicker and must have dozed off because I now shot bolt upright, slightly disorientated and gripping the covers and sheets under me tightly. It flooded back quickly enough though, but my heart remained in my throat, pounding wildly as listened with strained ears to the footsteps in the corridor outside.  
The sound was at my door now. Then the noise of metal on metal. The lock clicking. Then the door opened.  
The man in the doorway was unknown to me, and he barely acknowledged my presence, simply stepping one foot into the room, saying, “This is yours.” And then throwing a small, but heavy satchel at me that thunked on the floor by my feet ominously.  
Then, in the short time it took me to glance down at the bag and back up to the guy to ask him what it was and what he meant – having never seen the bag in my life – he was gone. The door snapping sharply shut behind him and there was the distinct sound of the door mechanism locking behind him once more.  
Alone. Again. Great.  
I peered into the bag only to find it full of wads of money, each held together tightly with an elastic band. I threw the bag to the foot of my bed in disgust. Fat lot that would do me, I thought bitterly. Not that I would keep it - I could guess where that money came from – the heist I had ‘helped with’ – but even if it wasn’t, this was the Joker we were talking about. All his money way stolen.  
It didn’t matter anyway. I had no need for it whilst I was locked in here.   
He could give me all the money in the world – right now all I wanted was something to eat.

Eventually food was delivered to me, though it wasn’t until after a long painful night of hunger. Now it was a regular thing. Though I remained locked in my room, I had access to water from my ensuite bathroom and food delivered morning, midday and evening by large burly men that unlocked the door, handed me and tray and disappear, the door being locked after them.  
I never tried to sneak out or attempt to get pas them, there was no point – they alone could probably deal with me judging by the amount of muscle on them. I soon began instead to offer them the previous trays in return as otherwise they never bothered to collect them and I would have ended up with a large pile of crumbs slowly decaying away.

So, I was fine. I was surviving. And I wasn’t tortured. But I was trapped and felt like a prisoner, despite the luxurious accommodation. What I couldn’t comprehend was why the Joker hadn’t spoken to me in over a week now, and I was confused why he bothered to keep me alive at all, let alone keep me here like this.  
After wondering this every day, I was then very surprised when the door sounded out of the usual hours of my meal deliveries. I had been lounging on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, entertaining myself with daydreams, when the knock sounded, and my gaze now immediately snapped to the door. I didn’t move, watching the door warily, but the knocking only became louder and more persistent.  
Eventually I opened the door, revealing the Joker stood looking rather unimpressed at the delay, in the doorway. I raised an eyebrow, in question, equally unimpressed with his sudden appearance after all this time. “What?” I asked shortly. I was getting use to treating this room like my own, with no one else around, and took my recent apparent safety for granted.  
“Is that a way to greet your host, doll?” Ask J in mock outrage, though I could hear the warning in his words. I rolled my eyes at him nonetheless.  
“Do come in.” I said, overly politely, opening the door wider to him and flourishing my hand in a mocking gesture.  
“As witty as ever, doll.” He observed dryly, striding past me into the room. For a brief moment I looked out the door and into the empty concrete hallway beyond. He hadn’t ensured the door was closed after him, and now I had a view of my freedom before me. But was I fast enough to outpace the Joker? And what were the chances of getting out of this warehouse, or managing to hide, before I was intercepted by one of the henchmen that I knew must patrol around.  
“I wouldn’t, doll.” Came the Joker’s voice behind me, easily reading my thoughts. I knew he was right and I begrudgingly let the door fall shut, turning, instead, to face my captor instead.  
“In that case, I’ll ask again. what do you want?” I demanded, annoyed that once again I was still stuck here against my will. Not that It was a bad room, no. Now I was being fed I was even slightly content, but I hated the idea I was stuck here – plus I was bored out of my mind.  
“So hostile.” Tutted J, looking offended. “I’m just here to give you some entertainment.” He grinned with a knowing smile, holding out his hands to either side, palms towards me in a welcoming gesture.  
I eyed him suspiciously. “No thanks.” I muttered.  
“Aw, come on, doll.” J persisted. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”  
“If it’s you, then no thank you.”  
“Whilst that is tempting, kitten.” The Joker teased with a sinful grin and glint in his eye, “I’m afraid not.” Stuck in his hand into his smart jacket – the action making me flinch, immediately jumping to the idea of him drawing a gun and finishing me – grinned at my reaction, and instead pulled out a folded piece of paper. He seemed to consider the document for a moment, before passing it over to me.   
I hesitated slightly before taking it from him. “What is this?” I asked without opening it, only looking at the blank folded side.  
“A present.” J said simply.  
“Why?”  
“Because its Christmas, doll. That’s what people do.” He said slowly like he thought I was slow in the mind. I raised an eyebrow at him and he let out one of his haunting laughs. “Well, close enough!” He amended. “Come on, doll, just accept it and get on with it.” He told me impatiently, waving his hand at the paper in my grip. “A thank you wouldn’t go amiss either.”  
I wasn’t about to go thanking him until I knew what I was holding, so I opened up the piece of paper to find several sheets, all full of details and plans for another heist. I frowned at the documents in confusion.  
“I’m still waiting, kitten….” J whined.  
“I don’t understand…” I said, confused.  
“Has all this time away from the office numbed you’re mind?” He demanded, irritated by my slow uptake. “They’re the documents for the next heist” He explained, jabbing his hand at them “ – seeing as you seem to enjoy the last one so much.”  
I continued to frown down at the documents, yes, I had enjoyed the planning of the last heist – problem solving all the little kinks and flaws - but I couldn’t do another one. I had aided in a robbery – and a pretty lucrative one at that judging by the amount of money that had been in that bag delivered to me!  
That bag now sat at the bottom of my wardrobe. I had tried to return it, attempting numerous times to give it over to the men that brought me food, but they just completely ignored it. So, in the end, I had moved it out of sight to the wardrobe. I didn’t want anything to do with it and keeping it out of sight helped to keep it off my mind.  
“I can’t.” I said finally, handing it back to him. But the Joker didn’t reach for it.  
“Sorry, doll, no returns.” He sneered and made towards the door. “Keep it. Maybe you’ll change your mind whilst your stuck in here with nothing else to do.” He teased with an evil grin. I scowled at him.  
He was halfway out the door now, “Oh, by the way doll, if you don’t help, you’ll probably just be contributing to a whole lot more death.” He pointed out with a manipulating smile, before slamming the door closed and I heard the lock go.  
I let out a cry of frustration, throwing the paper, though it hardly got far before it fluttered limply to the floor.   
I was trapped again.  
And he was right. If I helped I was aiding a crime, but I would also be able to edit it enough to minimise the amount of damage was done – property and people wise.   
I sighed heavily as I looked over at the papers now sprawled on the floor, tossing back and form on what to do till my mind ran itself round in circle and I threw myself face down on the bed, screaming my frustrations into the pillows.

I did.  
I gave in.  
I was felt quite ashamed by my choice, but in the end, I couldn’t help it. Or maybe I could. But either way, I didn’t. I had sat on my bed for ages, the boredom - and knowledge that I didn’t have to be bored - was like torture. The lure of the papers and my curiosity for the plans eventually overpowered me however, and soon my brain was listing excuses as to why it was ok to help.  
And so I did it.  
I sat at the armoire, rubbing out and pencilling in my edits as the snow flurried past my window. The plan this time was for the hijacking and stealing of a lorry of chemicals. I wondered what the Joker was up to, but soon decided that I’d rather not know – it made helping easier.  
When I had done all I could do – and reread it at least 5 times – I knew I now needed to get the plans back to the Joker. So I waited, until my meal arrived that evening, and – as the large henchman handed over the food I in turn handed over the papers.  
The man looked at it, but refused to take it, instead he gave a single nod and then closed the door in my face. I scowled in annoyance at the door. Why couldn’t he just take it from me?  
I spent the rest of the evening alone until I thought about finally trying to get some sleep, when I heard a familiar loud and persistent knock at the door. This time I didn’t hesitate and opened the door to the Joker on the other side, the papers already in my hand. I handed it out to him, but he ignored it as well, pushing his way into the room.  
“Evening, doll, I see you’ve been busy.” He grinned triumphantly as he turned back to face me, his eyes on the paper. I hadn’t even bothered to consider making a bid for freedom this time, automatically shutting the door behind him.  
“Yes.” I answered. “Now just take it and leave me alone – or better yet – let me go.” I said, thrusting the paper at him. He didn’t grab, instead he grabbed me, his large pale hands easily wrapping all the way around my wrist and stopping me in my tracks.  
“Why thank you, doll.” He said, plucking the paper from my fingers, but not releasing his grip on me. He tugged at my wrist and I was forced to step closer to him to keep my balance. “As for letting you go, doll, no can do – you’re quite a lucrative investment.”  
I scowled darkly at him. “I am a person. Not a money-making scheme.” I snarled.  
“Oh, I know, doll…” He sneered, “Which is why I have a little proposal for you…” I watched him suspiciously, I hadn’t been this close to him since the kiss and I could feel his breath on my face, the distinct smell of whisky and man. I could feel my body becoming aware of his and my temperature rose a few degrees.  
“I am not sleeping with you.” I said firmly, though my voice didn’t sound as strong as I wanted it to.  
The Joker grinned wickedly, “Ah, princess, that wasn’t what I had in mind, though I wouldn’t say it hadn’t crossed it…” He said, his eyes roaming my body sinfully. I should have felt disgusted, but I just felt every inch of her body burn under his gaze and I desperately tried to resist the urge to squirm under his scrutiny.  
“What then?” I snarled.  
He ‘Oooo’ed silently at me snapping at him before his face went neutral. “I want you to work for me, doll.” He stated simply.  
I felt my eyes widen in shock. I hadn’t been expecting that. “I-I can’t.” I stuttered in surprise.  
“And why not?” He enquired politely, his invisible eyebrows raised in question.  
“Well…” I sought for my reasoning, but found my brain wasn’t quite working, “Because you’re a criminal! And I’m – I’m not…” I finished lamely.  
He laughed at my pathetic attempt of justification. “Doll, you don’t have to be a criminal to work for me – besides you’re practically doing good.” He said slyly – “think of all the people you’re saving by helping me – and you’re not even losing me any money, so I don’t care.” He shrugged nonchalantly.  
I desperately searched my mind. I couldn’t have this job, I knew that, but he was speaking sense - I was kind of helping people by working for the criminal, in a mixed up twisted way. There had to be a comeback to that, but my mind was mush.  
“I – I already have a job!” I pointed out.  
“I’ll pay you more.” J said, simply.  
I sighed, “It’s not for the money – that is my own company, it’s worth more than any amount of money.”  
“Last time I checked, doll, it was your husband’s business – at least that’s what everyone been saying.” He said slyly, knowing that would make me react, but I’m not sure he realised how much of a stab in my chest that was. Something snapped in me at that and, taking J completely by surprise, I violently wrenched my hand free from his grip and stormed out of the room to the only other place I had access to - The bathroom.  
I slammed the door behind me and sat with my back against the door – as it had no lock – and felt the boiling rage quickly subside into a hot flood of tears and I was soon sobbing into my hands.  
It had been a fear of mine that when the merger between my company and Mathew’s had taken place I would lose my company to the man, but the contract had seemed so clear - that though the companies had merged, there was still two distinct sides – his and mine. The two companies still existed separately but we took the same losses and gains together – a close knit team like I thought our marriage was supposed to be. But I also thought our marriage would mean that much to Mathew, that he would value me more as a person than a business partner – and that he would notice – and care – about my feelings towards my company, the struggles to build it and make it thrive, and exactly the reason why I hadn’t wanted a complete merger of the two businesses.  
Clearly not if he was now actively encouraging people to believe it was all his company. Especially people who still seemed to be believe that women were no more than pretty trinkets on a man’s sleeve.  
Eventually the tears subsided, though I still felt raw and my temper didn’t feel far from the surface. I wasn’t just mad at Mathew now – though he was the person I was most fuming at – but I was mad at the whole of society for thinking they could do this to me and get away with it. They had known me before I was Mathews wife, they knew me to be the powerful business woman I had been before the rings and ‘I dos’, they knew, as well as Mathew did, what that company meant to me, yet they’d happily call it his the minute we were an item. Like I was suddenly inconsequential.  
I clenched my hands into fists, gritting my teeth together. I wished they were in this room with me right now, I would like to punch their smug, painted faces. I growled at myself, trying to find another outlet for the rage.  
I hadn’t heard J move on the other side of the door for a while and I wondered if he’d left - yet I wasn’t sure I had heard the bedroom door go either – but I might have drowned it out under all of my sobbing.  
I got to my feet, catching a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, grimacing in disgust and splashing water on my face in a poor attempt to make myself slightly more presentable before I went back out.  
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I found J staring out my window at the snow that seemed to constantly fall at the moment.  
“Not much of a view, is it doll?” He observed, his eyes not leaving the grimy glass. I didn’t say anything in return, stood awkwardly and still sniffling slightly, whilst J was on the other side of the large bed to me. We stood silently together for a moment, me watching him, whilst he kept his eyes on the window.  
“I’ll pay you double.” J said eventually, repeating the offer from earlier.  
“No.” I said, walking over to the wardrobe and pulling out the bag of money. I moved back to my original position and threw it on the bed between us. “You’ll that that back” I negotiated, “and I’ll take the money you’re making off those people from my ‘kidnapping’.”  
His eyes snapped to money when it landed on the bed, but they moved to my face. His face was deadly serious and seemed to be surveying my face, running through my demands. He moved slowly and deliberately around the bed until he stood in front of me. “Deal.” He said with a wide grin, holding out a hand for me to shake.  
I eyed his pale, muscular hand warily, my eyes lingering on the ink painting his skin. My eyes flicked up to his icy blue ones. “Strictly Business?” I asked firmly, think back to the kiss and his teasing, let alone the eyes that were now piercing mine.  
“Strictly business.” Agreed the Joker with a sinister grin. But I trusted him. And I gripped his hand.


End file.
